Book Of The Hours Novels & Stories

Piper — cat, queen, bookstore menace — stalked over the counter like she owned it and plopped herself on the pile. "You're in the way," Aria said. Piper blinked at her, stretched, and knocked a paperback to the floor. "You're fired." The bell above the door rang just before noon. A woman stepped in, tall, sharp, her coat the green of frozen leaves. "Do you have anything that feels like winter?" she asked. "Genre?" "Poetry. Something cold." Aria nodded, stepping toward a shelf. She traced the spines until she found it: The Book of Hours by Rilke. She handed it over without a word.

I close the door quietly. I spend an hour in the smaller library looking at the books. He has everything. Fiction. Nonfiction. Art books. History. A whole shelf of poetry that looks like it has never been touched. I pull out a volume of Mary Oliver and flip through it. Someone has dog-eared a page. I read the poem. "Wild Geese." I read it twice.

Silence filled the Eternal Sanctuary. Every Guardian stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the ancient altar nestled within the heart of the Tree Beyond the Sky. The weathered book rested on a pedestal of living silverwood. Its cover was unlike anything they had ever seen; it wasn't leather or cloth, but looked as though it had been woven from moonlight itself. Silver roots wrapped gently around its edges, pulsing with a heartbeat that felt older than time. Aiden took an unconscious step forward, and the book responded as a faint silver glow spread across its cover.

She was shaking her head in disbelief, like she couldn’t believe this was happening. “No… It can’t be him! I saw him leave.” She entered another aisle only to find it had the cursed book embedded in the wall too. She turned around and fell backward with a shriek as the book was embedded now in both ends of the aisle. She pushed the shelves but they wouldn’t move. Frantically she looked at the Book of Oath in her hand. There were three books which meant one of it was an illusion. Low chanting resonated from every direction, some low and some high pitched. The Great Mistress covered her head and slid down by the shelf.

With quickened footsteps, she dashed to the shelf and found only two books still laying. Eyes closed and the outside world shut completely. "Focus and you shall get what you want!" She silently said to herself with hands that were raised halfway to the books. As soon as she opened her eyes, the bold, gold letters glowed on the backside of the two books. They began to mechanically shake and eventually fell from the shelf to her hands. "The Waters Beneath Will Deliver—The Winds Shall Redeem Me From NERIDA." "Why are there two books?" Amethyst halted to browse the black covered book. She only got a glimpse of the inside of the book which was empty. Turning to the gold-covered book, she glimpsed

I watched as every member of Chaos’ family cut their palm open and make a trail of blood from where they stood to where the urn was placed without a hitch or pause in their chant. I felt the moment when a change occurred to the power flowing around and saw the exact moment when the urn went up in flames. The brighter it burned, the higher the chants went and the more it rattled. I held my breath when the lid of the urn flew right off of it as if kicked before it burst into pieces. Its bursting did not shock me as much as the phoenix that emerged out of it with its flaming wings wide spread and its head thrown back as it let out what sounded very much like a battle cry.

She had made her choice, and she would not dwell on things that could not be changed. On a quiet afternoon, Lyra found herself in the heart of an ancient library—a place she had visited many times before in her quests for forgotten memories. The library was vast, its shelves filled with scrolls and tomes that stretched back through the ages, documenting the lives, histories, and memories of countless souls. Dust hung in the air, illuminated by shafts of light that filtered through the tall windows. It was a place of peace, a sanctuary for those seeking knowledge.

The interior was dark, a cavern of dust and shadows, the air thick with the scent of decay and forgotten memories. I fumbled for my phone, my fingers clumsy with a mix of fear and anticipation. The beam of my flashlight sliced through the darkness, revealing a scene that made my breath catch in my throat. Chains, thick and rusty, lay scattered across the floor, their links glinting in the artificial light. I followed their trail, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

Libro Vitae whispered its voice harmonious. "Libro Vitae, please show me where Alastair is hiding," I asked. The book hummed in response. Libro Vitae became warm in my hands. The cover opened, pages flipped continuously until they suddenly stopped. The words on the page jumped off the paper, floating into the air, wrapping themselves around me. In a blink of an eye, I was pulled into the book. Light flooded my vision. Every sound echoed around me. Voices raced past me, speaking in riddles. Some shouting, screaming, others a dull whisper. Libro Vitae's voice became louder as I watched the trees form around me.